


If you make one mistake (let it be me)

by serosoul



Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-14
Updated: 2014-08-14
Packaged: 2018-02-13 04:15:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2136672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serosoul/pseuds/serosoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A new Era breathes love and life into spaces that were never meant to close.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If you make one mistake (let it be me)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ayahaha](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ayahaha/gifts).



> fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck

The needle snaps audibly against dark skin, wisps of black painting warped intricacies down thickening forearms. Era dabs the heel of his hand against the feverish perspiration gathering on his brow- it won't be long now. His chest constricts again, pulse sluggish and lungs working overtime as they expand. In the quiet hush of the stock room, he can practically hear his own skeleton creaking.

The communication system crackles alive, static followed by the monotonous droning of the front desk receptionists. "Nurse Era to the paediatric ward. Nurse Era to the paediatric ward, please." The drawling voice snaps Era right out of his daze, blinking until his vision snaps back into focus and safely disposing of the broken needle. His skin has already hardened, he hasn't even submitted his resignation letter.

He swallows as he makes his way to the paediatric ward, the click-click noise of a parched throat resounding in the empty halls. Moonlight slants across white-lit linoleum floors and he counts the hours left of his on-call night shift, if he can just keep it together- they're only 4 nurses tonight and 2 are occupied by a car crash and the last by projectile vomiting infesting an entire ward.

Everything expands then sharpens, like a camera on auto-focus and Era staggers, exhales heavy and dreadful as he attempts to reclaim his equilibrium. His shoulders ache, his ribs snapped months ago but the brain rattling agony was nothing compared to this, he touch a tentative hand to the back  of his pristine uniform, over one the growing bumps that he won't be able to hide come morning.

"Nurse Era to the paediatric ward immediately, this is an emergency. Nurse Era to the paediatric ward immediately, this is an emergency."

Gritting his teeth, he shoulders on like he knows he should and between the two children wheeled in for extensive surgery, he forgets to shake, forgets to feel sick, forgets to feel how his entire body is attempting to tear apart and reconstruct itself all at once. Forgets he can barely breathe. He practically crumbles when a shaky smile, wet with tears, concludes his shift as sunshine comes through.

****

Heavy pounding sounds against a thin door, the wood rattled by the sheer force and the bolt-lock jingling softly in response to the sudden abuse. Era groans, spots of white dancing in his visions like little motes of dust when he attempts to open his eyes. He squeezes them shut again, exhaustion dragging, forcing him back to his practically slumbering state. "I'll get it" His sister assures.

"Coming!" She calls loudly, making Era wince when his head throbs and it makes his entire body quiver right down to his aching joints. He stills catches the pattering of her socked feet, and then there's muffled voices, urging words. He can't make out anything specific, but the voices a gruff and dire, snappish, Era twists atop the sheets and attempts to will his transformation along. Nothing happens.

A loud noise sounds from beyond the bedroom, a thump, there's yelling now and Era's newly formed arms spasm and twist against the duvet. His sisters voice rises, anger seeping into every word out of her mouth "I'm telling you, he's not here- I'll call the police." The warning is feeble at best, only one laugh can be heard. Era inches across the bed.

"Well, if he's not in his own apartment, crippled by pain, he has to be here." They're getting closer to the room now, Era is just shy of completely sure that his sister has actually knocked out a collector. He leaves pride for another time, plants one foot on the floor and levers himself out of bed. "Well, if we can't get our hands on him- why don't we just take you back instead, who cares?"

"I'll report you to the authorities on the other side- I swear-" She begins, spluttering and panicked as she throws a glance across her shoulder. Era's up, he's up and he's standing right there and her eyes widen in horror when the collector lets out another gravely laugh. He barely touches her arm before something warm and wet touches her face.

The collector just hangs there, limp and glossy eyed, stripes Era's arm and front with same thick crimson that adorns the walls and pours from the pathetic remains of a thick neck. Era's fingers flex. Something audibly crunches, snaps, the body is flung aside and reluctance to accept the situation has Era's sister recalling that nothing will ever stand between a mature Zhe'il and those it holds dear.

Era's jaw moves, unintelligible growling leaving his lips like he's shredding a language word for word, his sister practically howls in the same degenerative tongue as several more collectors pour into the tiny apartment, taking in the scene and allowing them only the slightest of moments to sort out their differences. A final note has the female Zhe'il scrambling from the scene.

She darts through the assembling monsters, deftly avoids grasping hands and wayward feet until she can make an honest break for it. Someone thinks to pursue, but agony is all that meets him. "It's not her time yet."

****

"Three of the collectors were dismembered during collection."

The new student comes through with the stench of untimely deaths and multiple violations clinging to rapidly darkening skin. His jaws snap, something horrible and inhuman tearing from his throat as he trashes against his restraints, rattles them hard enough to drag the monsters restraining him. His eyes are blanked out, teeth bared and chains audibly crackle in the calm before the storm.

The grating sound of chains tears through the hush of the Welcoming Hall, it's been over four years since the last student came through but the air of unrestrained violence rivals nothing that has ever come before this one. The habitual bullheadedness of the collectors is nowhere to be found either, anxiousness and trepidation ruling them as a ferocious roar rattles them all to their core, both physically and mentally.

Hurried footsteps sound, ways off. A chain-link breaks, loud and foreboding, just before the zhe'il practically goes lax within their desperate attempt to hold him. His head dips back, jaw inching open as conciousness flickers in his wild gaze and no one is sure if they should be glad he's regaining control of himself. "Get away from him." Eiji roars, almost too late in his orders when their last line of defence gives out beneath a sudden onslaught of brutality from the enraged zhe'il.

Four of the collectors go flying, one with a deep gash accompanying his journey to a nearby wall. The zhe'il lets out another bout of his rage, the huge mass moving with a swiftness that should be completely impossible has him across the hall in a flash, the chosen victim barely left with any chance to sound his terror before sickening crunches sound. Over and over.

"So that's Era, huh?" Eiji asks, rolling up his sleeves with the calm of someone who's seen the modern world evolve, and all of the atrocities involved, this merely a speck of dirt in comparison to the worst of it, yet everyone around him shrink back in terror, including the council member previously next to him. "Y-yes sir." She confirms, takes another few steps back as none of the guards or collectors want to pick a fight.

It takes half a heartbeat and a flash of movement later, the huge monster is resting across Eiji's firm shoulder, silent and so, _so_ still. "Sign him up for the regular program." He orders, adjusting the hefty weight on his shoulder as he turns away from the scene. "Someone set him off and he will not stand to blame for our mistakes."

****

"What's your life-span?" Era pauses at the question, expression shuttering though he doesn't mean too, shoulders tensing despite other intentions. The smile returns in moments, wide and bright, "You already know that." His avoidance is so matter-of-factly that Eiji feels cold. 

I want to hear it from your own lips. He bites back the angry words, swallows them like a bitter pill and let's everything twist and churn, reduce his insides to selfish wants and wishes and the urge to drag Era into his own despair. But he never will, not Era, not ever. Their discomfort is mutual, Eiji smoothing out crumbled papers and Era taking his time.

A single step breaks through the quiet, dispels Eiji's red haze when a dozen more sound, desperate yet purposeful in their path. Eiji doesn't look up, fearing more what Era will discover in his gaze than what Eiji knows he'll find in his. For the first time, when he's pried from his work and drawn into selfless warmth, protest doesn't even graze his mind. 

**** 

"You don't have to leave." Eiji mutter to a broad back, setting an effective stopper to Era's cheery whistling but not his dishwashing. There's a brief flash of amber before he's peering into the sink again, two hands wiping the same perfectly dry mug for a little too long. He's contemplating something, thoughtful and quiet, until he places the ceramic on the table. 

He wipes soapy hands off on the rag, uncertainty curling his lips, and for a short moment he allows himself tolose his head, dread and doubt settling in where they have no business and make his gaze sharpen with the briefest glimmer of hurt. But he has no right to feel this way and his expression shutters when Era's eyebrows slant in obvious worry. "I can't stay the night, Eiji I-" 

Eiji doesn't know what comes over him, neither of them do, but he's helpless to care as he pins Era with a dark gaze and snarls "Stay". Era's reaction is so physical that Eiji actually feels pleased, his pupils blowing as a single desperate note is torn from his throat, the lightest of shivers telling of yearning and desperation. Era nods mutely, does it several times, and that's that. 

Something starts to tear in their relationship as Era returns to the dishes with renewed gusto. Something Eiji carefully constructed and implemented himself, something he, himself, is looking to destroy tonight, which he realises now, was probably an inevitable outcome. He tries to reason he can't deny Era any longer, but knows he's the one being selfish.

Before expectant eyes can thicken the resolve pulsing like a heartbeat, Eiji rises him his chair. and vacates the kitchen for safer places. His closet is vast, stuffed full with articles he will never need and threads no one will ever wear again. He foregoes all of that and rifles through anything that can be categorized as sleepwear, even if a little farfetched.

He thinks of strong thighs and thick arms, thick everything really, and knows none of his shirts will ever fit. Nevermind the extra pair of arms. There's one pair of hamstrings that might fit, and the second Era pops his head inside the closet door the pants are deposited on his face. "I could just have gone home you know?" Era says, obviously bemused as he follows Eiji through the apartment, bottoms in hand.

Eiji doesn't say a thing to that, refuses to, and simply tugs the bathroom door open and motions for Era to get in. "What about you?" He asks, steps inside and gets right in Eiji's face so he doesn't miss a single second of his sunny smile. The smile turns mischievous, and Eiji knows what's coming before Era even parts his lips. Through the shut door he hears a muffled "We could shower together, save some water." He hates that he feels tempted at an obvious joke. 

He stands there, handle in hand, until the sound of water breaks his trance and hopes Era is smart enough to locate the towels on his own. Era hustles along to take his own shower, wash away all of his insecurities and scrub off the cloying sense of foreboding that has been clinging to his skin all day. He can't stop thinking that this really is a mistake, knows he doesn't deserve a single minute of Era's time but imbibing on it like a dying beast.

When Eiji finds Era already on his bed, the former is in the middle of a yoga move so obscene the urge to wreck him, until all he knows is Eiji, flares so suddenly that he nearly loses his cool, nearly gives in. Era looks up just then, sees the unadulterated mix of rage and desire and his eyes go impossibly wide, look impossibly excited. He's practically twinkling as he comes down from his stretch, lips folding into a pleased smile. "Hi." 

Eiji lifts a brow at the greeting before breaking eye contact. He hears rather than sees Era drop down on the bed, smells the familiar tang of his own bodywash as it wafts around the room and tamps down on the ancient possessiveness that makes him want to mark Era, drag him down. Era rolls onto his back, smiles and smiles with the slightest tinge across his cheeks and holds a single hand out.

Cautious, Eiji approaches the bed with a few choice words of pre-emptive refusal resting at the tip of his tongue, but Era reaches for the damp towel in his hand and takes it from him. Another two hands reach for his arms, gently circle his wrists and urges Eiji onto the bed. Suddenly bone-crushingly tired, he sinks onto the mattress and it dips, shifts Era closer to the centre, closer to him. 

He grunts in warning when the hands abandon his wrists for the planes of his back, stroke in wide circles until they fall away, accompanied by a soft chuckle. They return with the towel, run it over Eiji's horns one at a time, calmly, meticulously, Eiji shifts but doesn't move away, tries to will himself to move but Era deviously sneaks a hand back to dance along his spine.

"All done." Era puffs at Eiji's ear, laughs a little when all he gets is a bleary glance and a quick succession of blinks. Eiji scowls at the sound, snatching the towel from the quivering idiot as he scrunches up atop the sheets. "Go to sleep, I'll put this away." He snaps, batch away the hand ruffling through the hair at his nape. "My legs aren't painted on you know," Era calls after him, but still crawls up the bed and settles his head on a pillow.

There's nothing easy about this, Eiji exhaling until it feels like his lungs might collapse, he kind of wants them to, he realises, but then amber flashes unbidden and he clutches the cotton between his fingers until water drips. He hates this, the uncertainty only he feels, the guilt that wrecks him and the hope and longing that keeps him together. His spit tastes bitter, chest uncomfortably tight.

He returns to a curious gaze peeking over the duvet. Era has even bothered to take out his pins, fringe hanging in eyes that are drooping impossibly more than usual, with a mixture of laughter and sleepiness. Eiji almost rolls his eyes, scrunches his nose instead and is about to turn off the light when a muffled "No." stills his hand. Eiji looks at Era in surprise, narrows his eyes.

"What?" Eiji asks, the surprise making him snappish, he sucks in a breath and wants to take it back. He feels completely out of his element and he's not sure why it has to be this way. His finger burns with the memory of his wedding band. "I-" Era starts, stops, sits up on the bed and the dark sheets pool around his waist, underlines how his torso is blacker than the night.

Era swallows and averts his gaze briefly, looks skittish and nervous and Eiji just can't connect that with him. Not since _that_ , which he'd rather not recall with Era on his bed. _"I'm afraid of the dark"_ , it's said in a rush, all jerky and disconnected and Eiji almost misses it, but the glimmer of fear - that he just doesn't understand - he definitely catches.

Darkness fills the room, a choked sound tearing into the dark and Era fights to keep his cool as he audibly rustles around on the bed. Eiji tugs at the sheets when he makes it to the bed, unravels the lumpy cocoon and wonders what he'll find between the layers of the duvet. He meets terrified amber eyes and just hangs there, one hand besides rumpled hair and the duvet clutched in the other. "Why?"

He receives a confused blink in reply, a tentative hand clutching his side, and it's shaking, relays the trepidation Era refuses to show. "Why are you so scared of the dark?" He tries again, indulges the growing amount of hands holding on to him by ignoring them completely. Era swallows, eyes fluttering shut and lashes quivering in the weak moonlight as he regains a chip of his composure.

"Bad things happen when it's dark," He mumbles, sounds unsure of whether to continue or not, presses on regardless. "Whenever I lose myself, everything just goes black- I never know what I might do," Era sounds panicky now, eyes wide and breaths rapid, shallow, guilt and pain all that's left to see. "Era." Eiji snaps, voice gruff and the duvet abandoned to grasp the jut of a strong chin, he tilts his head up.

The panicked haze disappears just like that, a desperate whimper sounding in it's wake and Eiji should feel awful for putting him through this, for not being able to comfort him like so many others can, for selfishly stealing kisses until Era's mouth is soft and pliant against his own and the whimpers turn into soft sounds of pleasure. He's taking advantage, but Era would never blame him.

Instead, Era draws him closer with warm hands, big and insistent against his back, accepts being crushed to the bed because he's crushing Eiji to himself. They part with equal reluctance, Era looking sparkling and alive and so pleased that Eiji claims his lips again, feels Era surge into it with unrestrained eagerness in the way he tilts his head, fits their lips together and laps at his lips until he tastes toothpaste and comfort.


End file.
